For the love of God
by Daaro Moltor
Summary: Lucius Malfoy has thrown yet another party, a costume-party non the less, and his son is bored out of his mind. That, until a highly interesting new guest arrives, and Draco makes it his main quest to figure out who he is.  Happy birthday Harry!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Google Crimson spell. There you have the long hair. You can make it black in your head, I'm sure. ;)_

**Dedicated to **_**The HP and Twilight lover**_**, for the most wondrous review I have ever received! **

Yet another ball.

Just bloody perfect.

He hated people. And now he was surrounded with them - just stupid ones, at that. For the moment he had taken shelter from the storm of humans directly to the right of the stairs, hoping that it would shield him from the eyes who sought a suitable victim to socialize with. Unfortunately his marvelous looks, eloquence and supreme intellect made him a perfect target.

He sighed deeply and took another sip of his jet black fire-whisky. It burned soothingly as it went down his throat, as if to say that it, too, suffered from this dreadfully dull party.

He decided that the party was, in fact, so insufferable he needed to drink up his (_hm, was it second?) _glass just to be able to stand it. Unfortunately he got so startled when one of the enchanted plastic bats in the fire-whiskey emitted an offended screech and flew away as he tried to drink it, that the glass slipped out of his hand and the liquid poured out on the floor.

The glass didn't break – enchanted, _of course –_ but he mourned the loss of the whiskey, even though it was in the wrong color. It was a hard struggle between pompous men and annoying women to get to the table with alcohol. He actually thought about summoning a bottle just for himself, but realized that might seem a bit too desperate to be acceptable. Even considering his current position; _suffering_. He was a Malfoy - appearance was _everything_, after all.

He took a step away from the glass and the pool of liquid, leaving it for some house elf to clean up (or hopefully someone to step in).

_Everything _was just a bit more to his father then to him, it seemed. This was the third ball his father had thrown in two months, and the previous two had been just as dull.

His father's balls consisted of a lot of people chatting about nonsense and pretending that they were important, over-dressed old witches trading gossip and talking behind each other's backs, wizards discussing politics that most of them didn't even understand. The young girls were the worst; wearing to much make-up and too little clothes, giggling immaturely in groups and fluttering with their long lashes at him. Sometimes he just wished that he could put up a big sign over his head saying: _Gay. Leave me alone, _just so they would get the fuck away.

He was getting more irritated by the second, and that was _not_ good, not just fifteen minutes after the party had started.

The ordinary show-off parties were dreadful. _This, _this _Halloween-party, _was simply horrid, just by the mere amount of people present. If it were, say, two-hundred at one of the normal parties, it was at least five-hundred there now. Everyone with even the slight importance to the wizarding society

_Insufferable._

What tormented him the most was that he was acting exactly like everyone else. He had greeted _his _(hmph!) guests politely and had mingled with the crowd impeccably until just a few minutes ago. And he knew that he soon would be dancing with annoying girls to lame music, accepting compliments and shameful flirting with a perfect smile while he felt like throwing up. But he wouldn't; he had to keep his _appearance _up.

With a loud moan he sank down on a painfully uncomfortable – but beautiful and elegant, naturally – chair and turned his gaze towards the roof. That, at least, wasn't completely shallow and plain – the night sky glittered by a thousand stars and a full, orange moon, gazing down with wonder at him. The wonderful sky held an incomprehensible, endless depth.

He knew that to enchant the roof like the grand hall at Hogwarts – to show the sky above – had drained an almost noticeable amount of money from the Malfoy-account – which _really _said something – but he thought it was worth every knut.

This party was _not. _

The hall was threatening to explode from all the decorations the house elfs had been putting according to his father's orders; glittering spider webs, soaring glowing pumpkins, real bats, floating candles, werewolf-paintings that howled, _black alcohol _(morons),and a hoard of more unthinkable things. They had been at it for days.

And just to make it all worse, it was a _costume party. _His _father _had decided that a _costume party _was a good idea.

Take cover, the world is going to an end.

He, of course, was way too dignified to dress up in some silly costume. Instead he had chosen to wear silver robes, perfectly matched with black pants and an elegant black satin cloak hanging from his left shoulder. A black mask was magically attached over his eyes just to keep questions and complains away.

He slowly started mentally preparing for yet another horrid evening, his few minutes of moderate peace would soon be over.

As he stood he could hear a wave of whispers from the people around him.

He sighed deeply. He knew he was gorgeous, but _Merlin, _they had seen him before, hadn't they?

"Oh, look!" a particularly loud whisper suddenly exclaimed as the source – another of those annoying girls – pointed towards the stairs a few feet away from him.

Huh, it wasn't him then? But who else could be stunning enough to create such a fuss?

He turned to see.

He stood directly to the right of the stairs, so thanks to the baluster railing he couldn't see anyone for a few seconds. But when he did, the first he saw was a long, black strand of hair, lifted by an otherwise invisible wind.

"_A woman, then", _was his first though.

But it was not a woman. Not at all.

The man wore a set of black dress robes, pooling by his feet, elegant enough to create a sting of jealousy at the pit of his stomach. But the robes were not what caught his main attention. The hair was.

He had never seen anything like it. As the man turned his back to him to greet his father, he saw that it almost reached the man's knees. Still, it somehow seemed light, and withheld its volume (in direct contrast to Severus Snape, standing to the right of his father, staring in envy at the man). And black, black as nothing he'd ever seen. The night sky he had previously admired with all its stars somehow seemed a little less glorious in comparison to this unknown man.

As this stranger began to trade words with his bewildered father – who obviously tried his best to figure out who the hell he had invited – he woke from his trance. And abruptly went to greet the guest before his mother could get a chance to drag away with him to her _ladies. _

"Ah, and this is my son, Draco", Lucius said and made a gesture in his direction.

The man turned to face him. Draco stared in amazement at the hair as it reacted to the man's movements, flowing graciously through the air, seeming unaffected by the pull of gravity. He just wanted to touch it. Just a little…

"Nice to meet you", the man said and clasped his hand, that he obviously unconsciously hand stretched out.

He fought a blush and won.

"Pleasure", he answered in a voice that was supposed to be slightly bored – though perfectly polite –, but instead gave away a bit of his curiosity and fascination.

Only now he met the man's eyes.

And nearly fell backwards.

They were a wonderful, brilliant shade of green, purer then anything he'd ever seen. Black, thick lashes framed them, making them stand out even more.

And the face… the face. Even though area around the eyes was covered by a plain black mask, it still radiated something that made him want to stroke that smooth, perfect cheek, to kiss those actually somewhat full lips.

If he hadn't figured out that he was gay already, meeting this man would definitely have been a clue.

"Can I show you to the food? Or drinks maybe?" his unconscious made him say, clearly not prepared to lose the man's company so soon after gained.

_Thank you, Unconscious. _

"Drinks, please", the man said with a polite smile, lighting up his world for a moment.

"This way, please", he said with a slight bow and held out an arm to point the way.

_Want. To. Touch. Hair! _

His wish was granted when the man walked past him and one of the unknown guest's delicate strands of hair brushed his face.

It was softer than anything he could have ever imagined.

Somehow he managed to follow the man towards the large table with drinks despite this wonderful experience.

_Salvation by hair. _

He followed closely behind to be able to direct the man, but made sure to be far away enough for the hair to move freely. It seemed like a constant breeze followed the man, playing fondly with his hair like nothing was more enjoyable.

Probably nothing was.

Watching it wasn't half bad either.

As the crowd grew more… well, crowded, he was slowly forced closer and closer to the man. Not that he was complaining.

As they reached the table, he poured up a glass for both himself and the stranger.

"Black?" the stranger commented.

"Yeah, I think my father is going nuts", he said with a displeased shrug. "Not only does this stuff look highly repulsive, but why change the color when it looked perfect in the first place."

To his great surprise the un-named guest started laughing.

The sound struck him as incredibly beautiful. Like nothing he'd ever be able to describe, but knew he would remember always, even if he'd only get to hear it this once.

Was he going soft after one and a half drink and a man's pretty hair (gorgeous eyes, beautiful face, perfect robes and amazing laugh)?

He truly was pathetic.

"You never cease to amaze me, Malfoy, even though you certainly have changed you methods", the man smiled widely.

He stared at the man.

"Do we know each other?"

He'd thought that he'd have remember such a man, even if he'd known him only before he realized that he was gay. Which he had done at age fifteen.

The man just smiled at him and sipped his black whiskey.

"Who are you anyway?" he asked suspiciously.

"I think we both prefer that you don't know the answer to that question", the man said and turned away from him. The black hair lifted in an elegant bow and brushed his hand.

It felt like something was ripped apart inside of him when the still unknown man walked away without looking back.

_When the hell did you turn into such a sissy?_

_

* * *

_First chapter out of three.

My little birthday-fic for Harry.  
Happy 30th birthday, Potter. Now you are an old man. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The huge clock at the end of the room had just struck nine (sending out a horde of bats and nine humungous black owls) meaning that it had gone _two hours _since the party had started. _One and a half _since he had last talked to the man with the beautiful hair and gorgeous eyes.

He had chatted with en endless stream of ass-kissing wizards wondering how things were _"holding up" _at the auror department. He had – in vain – tried to fend shameless flirting from women… hm, let's see, _five times _his age. At _least. _He had, like the perfect host he was supposed to be, danced with every girl that had asked him to dance (stupid girls, didn't they knew that it was supposed to be the _man_ who did that? If they just had been kind enough to keep that in mind he wouldn't have had to dance with any of them!). After all, you never knew whose services you might be in need of later on.

The Malfoys weren't masters of exploiting people for nothing.

Unfortunately he hadn't even got close to do what he wanted to do – get to know that stranger.

That very man had been tip-toeing in his mind all night, surprising him with his presence when he least expected it. Whole conversations seemed to consist of the black-haired man, until he returned to reality to find it was about last year's dress-fashion. He had quickly agreed with all the sincerity he could manage that pink dresses were dreadfully hideous – after quickly making sure that all the dresses in earshot was either blue, black or forest green. This year's dress-fashion.

He had mentally left the conversation, and returned to the man, as quickly he had entered it. He had sometime during the night given the man a name, just to keep him from calling him things like "The mysterious stranger with the beautiful hair" or "The man with the incredibly gorgeous eyes". Not only were those things long, they were also pathetic. And Malfoys didn't do pathetic.

He had named the man Deus.

He had read it quite recently in some book. It meant _God._

"Thank you, Draco, for keeping us company, you have been the most wonderful listener. Most guys just won't listen you us, you know", one of the girls said in a horribly shrill voice that made him want to puke. The others nodded in agreement.

_Wonder why._

"I can't understand why not, Astoria. You girls have the most interesting opinions", he said with a perfect smile that made the girls blush.

He turned his back to the annoying women and started making his way through the crowd with mumbled excuses.

He seriously needed to find Deus.

And come up with a better name.

He found him talking to a wizard dressed up to look like a broom. What an utterly pathetic choice of costume.

He took a deep breath and but on a perfect smile that showed off most of his boredom. Showing that he _wasn't _interested in the man was what was the most important right now.

He put a hand on the man's arm. The fabric the met his fingers was of a quality that was rare even in his closet. _Not _because lack of money, that you very much. It simply wasn't around to find.

He regained consciousness in a split second.

"Yes?" the man asked, eyebrows partly visible above the black mask.

"Excuse me", he said to the Broom.

"No problem", the Broom answered and flew away.

A_ flying _broom-costume. How even more pathetic.

"That is odd", Deus said beside him, as if confirming his thoughts.

"Yes," he agreed and turned to the man, "I'm afraid that my errand is too", he said and added an apologetic tint to his smile.

"Yes?" Deus said again.

"Yeah, well, my father is a bit confused about your identity, and he asked me to confirm your invitation", he said with a shrug. "Discreetly of course, but I thought it to be such a silly matter that I decided to tell you what it was about",

Deus gave him a sweet smile.

"Well, of course", he said and flicked his wand.

The familiar black piece of parchment that indicated an invitation to the silly party appeared in the air.

"Here you go", Deus said unwrapped the paper.

He noted that the man covered the name on top of the invitation carefully, even though he held the parchment with appeared ease. He did _not _let disappointment mar his features.

"Thank you", he said and let the smile fall. For some reason he felt like he didn't need to keep up an appearance in front of the man. It was a strange feeling.

Even though he had finally got what he wanted – Deus – the crowd would soon steal the man away from him again.

"Not enjoying yourself?" Deus asked with a smile.

"Not particularly." He answered dryly.

Merlin, he needed to find a new name.

"And why not?" the man wanted to know.

He forced himself not to turn towards the man when he spoke to him. If he did, he'd only get distracted. "The guests are dreadfully dull. Especially the girls about our age", he hoped that the other man would fall for his little trick.

"Well, thank you very much, it's a pleasure to meet you too", Deus said with an amused grin. Ah, he fell for it. The man was as old as he looked. "And besides, I thought the girls around here wore little enough clothes to be of your entertainment…?"

He broke his promise to himself and turned his eyes towards the man. His face, eyes, whole appearance, screamed that the most hurtful thing he would ever do was stepping on an ant. By accident. And then apologize.

"I'm gay", he said shortly and turned away before he could get completely mesmerized.

"Oh", was the man's reply.

He stared of in the distance, giving the man a chance to sneak away.

"Well, of you find the party so dull, maybe you could do me the pleasure of following me outside?"

He was completely taken aback by the fact was still _there, _let alone _talking to him. _

"Sure", was all he managed.

Deus gave him a dizzying smile before setting course to the open balcony doors. He followed in the daze the smile had left him in.

"Wow…" the Black haired man said and leaned against the baluster railing.

"Yeah", he agreed, even though his eyes weren't on their surroundings.

But he'd seen it before, and he would admit without hesitation that the garden was far more mesmerizing then the ballroom.

Floating candles helped the stars and the moon illuminate the nearby pond and oak trees, and further away they marked the way of an eerily shining marble stone-path – which he by the way knew led to the Malfoy lake and forest.

But he was so lost in his staring at the still unknown man, that no compass, map, private guide or locating spell could get him out of it right now.

Deus shining green eyes, on the other hand, could.

"You should be keeping the festivities outside instead", Deus said with a smile.

"Yeah, that way, when I got bored, I could just drown myself in the pond", he said dryly.

Someday, he would thank his father for training him in the fine art of keeping appearances up.

The same day when his pride melted away and his dear aunt Bellatrix could go ice-skating in hell.

The don't-be-silly-this-is-a-lovely-party he was expecting for an answer never came.

"Or you can just do it in the punch inside", Deus suggested playfully.

If he had been anything else than a Malfoy, he would have stared openmouthed at Deus for several moments.

"Nah, too crowded."

But he _was_ a Malfoy.

Dues laughed and turned back to admire the stunning vista.

This time he actually _stood _dumbfounded for a moment. He had heard the man laugh. _Twice! _

_Amazing._

When he finally came to his senses again, a small breeze lifted Deus hair to gently stroke his hand and almost knocked him back into oblivion again. But the breeze became stronger and the hair was lifted higher, away from his hand.

He felt like pouting like a displeased child, when a strand of that jet-black hair lightly tickled his cheek.

Suddenly all of that wondrous hair blew all over his face. The exhilarating smell tickled his nose and the soft strands brushed against his lips. Hell, he probably looked like the most ridiculous person in England right now, with black hair all over his face. But right now he couldn't bring himself to do anything but ignore that very fact.

_Just put on an annoyed face when Deus sees it, and you'll be fine. _

Unfortunately the man surprised him put pulling his hair away in that very moment. The irritation came completely naturally to him. Even though not for the reason intended.

"Merlin, I'm so sorry! This isn't my usual length so I'm kind of not used to it, I didn't mean for it to blow all over your face." Deus apologized and gathered his hair in a ponytail with his hands. Still a few stands escaped, and were brought up to his face again by a soft breeze.

Deus quickly snatched them back with a blush.

They stared at each other for an awkward moment.

"Give me your name", he suddenly demanded, surprising even himself.

"What? No!" Deus said, almost as if offended.

"Why not?" he persisted.

"Because!"

He made a face before he could control himself and turned away.

"Fine." he muttered sourly.

If Dues would be that way, that was _his _problem. He just wanted to make sure that this wouldn't be the last time he'd see the man, but _no! _The stupid, irritating, dimwit just wouldn't…-!

No. He shouldn't get this irritated. Not because a man he hardly knew and never couldn't be with refused to give him his name. That just wasn't…-

"Fine. You can ask three questions, and I promise to answer them truthfully. If you can't get my identity by then, you will have to settle with what you got, understood?"

He turned around with a grin.

"Understood." he confirmed.

He took a step closer and he saw Deus wince a little, obviously already having his regrets.

"Did…-" he stopped himself before he could waste his first question. He'd been about to ask if the man had gone to Hogwarts, but most people he knew and close to everyone at the party _had_, so maybe…

"What house was you sorted in?" he asked.

The other man smiled weakly.

"I should've known this was a bad idea",

"Yes, you should have, but that isn't an answer", he said.

Deus let out a deep sigh.

"Gryffindor", the green eyed man admitted.

He managed to suppress the shock as quickly as it hit him.

_Gryffindor! _

"Well then, how old are you?" he asked, noticing and ignoring the pleading look in Deus eyes.

He should have known the man was a Gryffindor, who else would give a promise to tell the truth and then keep it? Well, besides the Hufflepuffs, then, but they were just stupid. And he knew the man wasn't stupid.

Deus sighed again. Even deeper, this time.

"Same age as you."

He couldn't keep his eyes from widening a little as he realized he had come down to five choices.

Or ten possibly.

He shook his head. No. Six, not ten. There was only _one _Gryffindor girl who could go through with such a successful appearance-changing spell.

"Twenty four then, are we?" he mumbled, mostly to himself.

Deus opened his mouth to reply.

"No! Don't answer that, it was rhetorical." he said with a crooked grin.

He knew.

"How much have you changed your appearance?"

Deus shrugged.

"I've grown my hair with about four feet, but that's it", the man answered miserably.

Deus knew that he knew.

"Well, " he said as he said down at the reeling in front of Deus, "now there's only one last thing I wonder…"

The black haired, green eyed man raised his eyebrows.

"Why in Merlin's name did my father invite_ you_, Potter?"

* * *

Hope you enjoyed it! Will try to post the last chapter soon.  
Reviews, please? ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Potter's mask was off and lay by their feet.

The Gryffindor was currently occupied with rubbing himself in the eyes with his forefinger and thumb. And probably nagging himself for underestimating a Malfoy.

Potter finally left his eyes be and switched to combing back the (slightly shorter than the rest) hair that hung in front of his eyes with his fingers.

He took a strand for himself and toyed with it, slipping it back and forth beneath his fingers. Potter didn't even seem to care.

"I admit it's a clever disguise, I think that if I didn't already know who you were, I probably wouldn't even notice the similarities if I didn't take a closer look", he admitted graciously. Potter was Potter, he had always said whatever he pleased to the other man. Just because what he felt like saying wasn't insults didn't mean he had to change that habit. Not when there was only the two of them, at least.

"It's kind of the point, " the Gryffindor said, "I wear it whenever I don't want people to recognize me",

"You say it as if that happens a lot", he stated and let go of the strand of hair, already missing the smooth feeling against his palm, "And, of course, you're Harry Potter, that _does_ happen a lot", he added before Potter got a chance to say anything.

The Gryffindor just nodded briefly and leaned forward to put his elbows on the railing as he stared of into the distance, lost in thoughts.

A small smile lifted his lips before he could stop it, as he realized that this probably was the first actual conversation they had had. With both of them actually knowing who the other was, mind you.

Potter's long hair was still dancing in the wind, but was he watched it he slowly became more and more annoyed with it. It was beautiful, yes, but now that he knew how it was _supposed _to look… well, it just wasn't Potter. And, he admitted to himself, he was quite… _content _with the way Potter looked normally.

His eyes abandoned the sight of the long, silky hair and slowly slid down the other man's strong shoulders and smooth back.

If Draco Malfoy had been aware of the hungry look that came over his face as his eyes reached the other man's rear, he'd certainly had done something about it.

"Malfoy, you do know I'm watching you checking out my ass, right?" Potter said suddenly and unmercifully brought him out of his trance.

The grey eyes snapped away instantly.

"Who says I was checking anything out?" he grumbled.

"Well, no one, but your drooling kind of gave you away…" Potter said with a grin.

He took a deep breath and regained his composure, the sight of Potter's rear had left him rather… distracted. After all, there were so many possibilities…

"Well, you can hardly blame me", he said and, before even Potter could react, he reached out and squeezed the other man's ass. They were _both _seekers, after all; both of them had the advantage of quick reflexes.

The action left him rather lightheaded, to his surprise.

Potter yelped loudly and jumped away from him. He looked like he didn't know if he should blush of glare. But finally Potter seemed to settle with a rather ridiculous combination of the two.

"What did you do that for?" Potter demanded huffily.

He couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing. Oh the look on Potter's face…!

As he slowly managed to pull himself together, he saw Potter looking at him with a funny face.

"What?" he asked, but couldn't quite manage the usual snap through the smile that lingered on his face.

The soft look on Potter's face as he watched him unsettled him a little.

"I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before", the Gryffindor said with a smile of his own, "it makes you look… younger…"

Why did it sound like "younger" wasn't the word Potter had meant to use in the first place?

He pulled a hand through his hair, making soft strands fall down over his forehead, and leaned back against the baluster railing.

"That's probably because I don't do it mu-mhch…"

Potter's hands were on the back of his head, pressing him against his lips. Through his wide-open eyes he could see Potter closing his own. It was not until _then_ he realized that the Gryffindor was not wearing his usual spectacles, but before he could make sense of why that fact made him disappointed his attention drifted to their connected lips. _Potter's _lips. They were hot against his, damp and so smooth. So soft that it made the hair he'd touched before seem like emery.

He was just about to close his eyes and enjoy the moment when Potter suddenly separated their lips. The Gryffindor's hands, however, were still on his neck, and Potter leaned his no-longer-scarred forehead against his. He found himself missing the scar just as well as the spectacles.

Potter's blazing green eyes met his, looking somewhat dazed.

A smirk slowly grew on his face as Potter's eyes went wider and wider as he realized what he'd done.

"If I'd known that you would do _that _just because I laughed, I would've done it a lot sooner", he said in his most seductive voice.

For a moment it looked like Potter's knees was about to give in, but then the Gryffindor suddenly jumped away from him as if he'd spontaneously caught fire.

With a little distance it was admittedly easier to take in the marvelous sight of Potter's body, but he still preferred the closeness.

He met Potter's gaze steadily and liked his lips. They tasted like Potter. And Potter tasted wonderful. His eyes slipped shut without him even intending to. When he opened them Potter was staring at him with wide eyes and a furious blush covering his cheeks. Potter's eyes left his lips and slowly, jerkily traveled down his body. Until they suddenly stopped.

He followed the gaze on himself and realized with a crushing wave of pleasure that Potter was staring at his groin. Where a quite evident hard-on was showing through the fabric.

He looked up at Potter's face to see his reaction. To both his delight and surprise he saw the Gryffindor absentmindedly lick his lips.

Potter's eyes suddenly snapped up and met his. He smirked wickedly.

And Potter blushed even more as he realized what he'd done.

As if the green-eyed man no longer was able to just stand still, he started walking back and forth over the large terrace.

He suddenly realized why he wanted Potter to restore his usual hair, to put on those stupid glasses and remove whatever spell it was that concealed the scar. He wanted Potter. All of him. Spectacles and stupid lightning-bolt mark included.

Of course, his dear aunt Bellatrix would be able to do not only ice-skating, but also build a whole snow palace in hell before he admitted to that fact.

"I hope that you are aware that pacing is utterly ridiculous…?" he said and raised his eyebrows as his eyes followed Potter's aimless wandering.

Potter continued walking. Somehow, the black hair that flowed behind his previous nemesis reminded him of a vast black ocean.

"_Pathetic much?" _a dry voice said in his mind.

"Will you stand still while I talk to you?" he asked with an oncoming frown, "And please, chop of that ridiculous hair while you're at it",

Potter's eyebrows rose. "I was under the impression that you were rather fond of my 'ridiculous hair'?"

"Yeah, well, you are prettier as yourself."

No.

No he hadn't. Please, say he had _not_.

The Gryffindor's eyes went as wide as saucers as he finally stopped and stood still.

Oh yes he had.

"Okay, if that's what you want", Potter said hesitantly.

"It is", he confirmed tightly, closing in on Bellatrix glistering new castle.

Potter held his eyes as he slowly drew his wand and flicked it towards his hair. He didn't really know what he'd expected, but it certainly wasn't what happened. Potter's hair seemed to melt down until it was nothing but dust-particles that the wind swept away in a glittering black cloud.

He was actually aware that he stared; he just couldn't do anything about it. How in Merlin's name he had been able to be in Potter's presence for _seven years _without shagging him to a wall – or any other fitting flat surface – was suddenly a mystery to him.

"The scar…" he managed, his voice hoarse, "can you…?"

Potter flicked his wand again, and the scar was there.

Glassed or no glasses, this was enough of Harry Potter to make him go slightly… _mad_.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I think I might have to kiss you", he said hoarsely.

The Gryffindor's eyes went wide again and he started to slowly back away. He followed, step by step, faster and faster. Suddenly the glass-wall stopped Potter's retreat, and he pinned him up against it. His arm snuck around Potter's waist and he placed his other hand on his neck. He pressed himself as close as humanly possible without crushing Harry. Their faces were so close that their noses bumped. The Gryffindor's soft, warm breath against his face smelled heavenly. The other man's lips were slightly parted as he leaned his head back against the glass behind him. He had never been gladder that he had a few inches more than Potter to work with. In the above-the-ground way of speaking. In the other… well, that was for him to find out, now, wasn't it?

Potter trembled a little under his pressure as the wide, green eyes met his.

"Or do you want me not to?" he asked softly. His lower lip bumped in to Harry's as he spoke.

He could see Potter's Adam's apple rise and fall as he swallowed. The strange urge to _lick _Potter's throat suddenly overcame him, so he did just that.

"Of course," he said, his lips still on Potter's neck, "there's much I could do that doesn't necessarily have to involve kissing you…?" he said it like a question to give Potter a chance to protest, but as he spoke he let his arm sneak around the other man's waist, squeezing his ass and pushing his pelvis forward to meet his, making sure that Potter wouldn't be able to present any objections at all.

And to his immense delight, the only thing that escaped Harry's lips was a low moan.

Now his only problem was moving Potter and himself away from public display without snapping the Gryffindor out of the state where he wouldn't protest. He decided that apparition would be the fastest – even if not the most discreet – way to get them out of here.

He made sure Potter was properly… _distracted _by attaching his lips to the Gryffindor's earlobe as he raised his wand. They left with no warning.

Potter, who had been leaning heavily against the glass wall, stumbled backwards until his back hit a tree. An oak, if his slightly pre-occupied mind wasn't completely out of it.

His hand found Potter's hips as he gently bit down on the man's ear, continuing as if nothing had happened.

He was just thinking that the trip had gone surprisingly well when Potter suddenly demanded "_Stop." _in his ear, and when he didn't obey quickly enough, the green eyed man took his hair in a firm grip and _pulled. _

He clamped his eyes shut and hissed, leaning backwards to ease the pain, surprise making him unable to conceal it. His hair and scalp had always been sensitive. It made washing it a blissful experience, but otherwise he could do without it.

He opened his right eye a little, managing a one eyed glare.

"_Where are we?" _Potter demanded firmly, eyes burning with something… _intense. _

_Mental note to self: Harry Potter ridiculously powerful. Hence, he could kill you if he wanted. End of note. _

He stared at the man before him. The eyes that he knew so well, now also with a familiar emotion. The angular face, a little naked without the customary spectacles. The scar that marked the forehead, which he suddenly got the urge to kiss.

_By Merlin, I think I just fell in love with him. _

"I have no idea…" he admitted with hoarse voice, pain suddenly forgotten.

It was almost true, actually. They were still in the Malfoy gardens, the oak being an old tree as he'd climbed as a child. But no one had a name for the place, and therefore, he had no idea where they were. The answer had been the truth, though the short version.

Potter's grip on his hair eased and smoothed over it a little, seeming suddenly aware of the pain he had inflicted.

"Why did you take me here?" was the man's next question, eyes still unyielding.

"I don't know if you noticed, but I had you pressed up against a glass wall", he drawled.

Potter blushed a little, but still kept his eyes steady.

He swallowed harshly but held Harry's gaze just as firmly.

"I didn't want anyone walking in on us", Draco admitted lowly.

"On _what _exactly?" Potter wanted to know, grip firm again.

This time he was prepared, and the pain actually helped when Draco slowly picked up his Malfoy mask and pressed out a glare.

"Well, I had something else in mind, but right now I just feel like kicking you ass", he spat. Two could play this game, after all.

Potter glared back at him but let go of his hair.

"Well, forgive me for being a little touchy, but I was kidnapped _four times _last month, and I'm getting a little tired of it",

Draco fought it, he really did. He fought it with ever little bit of Malfoy-control he had, but for some Merlin forsaken reason he just couldn't stop it. Potter thought that he'd just been using him in order to _kidnap _him, when he really…!

There just was something with Potter that made Draco act strange. He couldn't help it.

He burst out laughing. He doubled over and tried to muffle the sound with a hand over his mouth while the other held his cramping stomach.

Tears were in the corners of his eyes, he still hadn't caught his breath and his smile was still wide enough to show a little of his teeth as he finally straightened up.

Potter was looking at him with that funny face again.

"You should really laugh more often, Draco, it makes you look beautiful",

As chock settled over his amusement the smile died on his lips. Suddenly the only reason to why Bellatrix wasn't able to arrange a full-on hokey-tournament was the severe ice age Hell suddenly was suffering.

Draco _and _beautiful in the same sentence? From Harry Potter's mouth!

"I believe 'young' was your previous choice of words", he choked out finally.

"That time I remembered to think before I spoke",

Draco let that excellent moment for an insult pass in favor for the hope of not being hurt as he leaned closer to the raven-haired man. He pressed his lips to Potter's forehead and when the man didn't protest in any other way than stiffening a little, he stepped closer. His hand sneaked up to Potter's hip and gripped it tightly.

"What exactly are you planning to do, Draco?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything unless you beg for it", he mumbled their lips close to touching, not sure if it came out as an assurance or a tease.

He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms tightly around Potter's waist and buried his nose in the man's neck, taking in the scent.

Potter hesitantly wrapped his arms around him too.

"Do you think that you could consider doing something else to my ass than kicking it?" Potter asked softly.

"Is that your idea of begging, Potter?" he whispered in Potter's ear.

"Depends. Does it work?"

He took Potter's earlobe in his mouth for a second before he answered.

"Only this time, because I find myself quite impatient", Draco admitted and leaned back a little to be able to see the other man properly.

Potter's bare, green eyes stared back at him. His gaze traveled to his red mouth, opened a little to let his heavy breaths out.

"Only to clarify, you aren't out to kidnap me, are you?"

"That depends", he answered, battling himself to not break his promise to Potter.

"On what?"

"On whether you are planning to escape or not", the corners of Draco's mouth twitched a little, "But then again, tying you up might be a better option",

Before he really knew what was happening Potter's lips was on his, prying them open. Harry's lips moved gently along with his, separating a slightly before closing again, capturing Draco's lower lip between his. He let his tongue dart out to softly stroke his warders. The velvet skin was warm and wonderful.

Potter gasped a little at the touch, probably out of surprise, which let him further in into the other man's mouth. His tongue met the other man's, stroking the tip softly.

"You're beautiful", he said as their lips met yet again.

"Strange," Draco said in between the light kisses, "That was exactly what I was about to say to you."

At Draco's words the kiss changed; it became fierce rather than sweet, and Potter was devouring his mouth as if he had gotten a taste of heaven itself.

Draco was so distracted that he didn't even notice that Potter's hands moved lover on his back, until they actually were squeezing his arse, pulling him even closer than before.

How he had managed _not to _notice Potter's erection by now was beyond imagining. As their hips groins clashed together, he had to tear his mouth from Potter's in order to breath. After composing himself a little, he managed to grin a little at Potter.

"What do you say? Shall we do something about this?"Draco's hand moved lover as he spoke, cupping Potter's groin at the last word.

"Merlin, _yes…" _Potter gasped, throwing himself back against the tree so harshly Draco was almost surprised that it didn't fell over.

With a smile at Potter's displeased sound as he removed his hand, he set at getting Potter nude as fast as possible. Delighted, Draco found the buttoning of Potter's long black robe to be at the back, so he spun the man around harshly and tore the first button open; kissing the skin that was revealed eagerly. He was rewarded with a throaty moan from Potter.

Button after button, more of Potter's back was uncovered. His smooth and pointed shoulder blades, his barely visible ribs, down the narrow valley created by his spine and finally to the slight hollows at the small of his back.

Draco was practically drooling.

As the last button came loose, Draco carefully pulled the clothing forward, baring Potters broad shoulders and pulling it off his arms. As he drew the robe over Potter's hands he couldn't resist; he stepped closer, pushing his whole body against Potter's, his hardened cock nestling neatly in between the Golden Boy's arse cheeks.

Potter gasped, and eagerly shook the robe off and stepped out of it as it pooled by his feet, kicking off his shoes while he was at it.

Draco took a step back to marvel at the view that was a half naked Harry Potter. Potter's hands were gripping almost convulsively at the bark of the tree, and his back was like a sculpture; a work of art.

With a slight moan he stepped forward again and wrapped his hand around Potter's waist, sneaking down to unbutton his pants, grazing his fingers lightly over the man's hardened shaft through the clothing as he did so.

"Draco…" the gasp escaped Potter's lips so softly that Draco almost didn't hear it. But he did. And almost came on the spot.

"Harry…" he managed to reply, just as breathily. Because truly, what man would call another by last name when he had just moaned your name?

Draco fell to his knees as Harry's pants finally agreed to open, and slid them down his legs, dragging his hands along Harry's thighs as he did so.

And soon, he was kneeling in the midnight dew behind a stark naked Harry Potter. Unable to resist the irony of it all – amongst other reasons – he leaned forward slightly and pressed a light kiss to Harry's left arse-cheek.

He could hear the Gryffindor's breath hitch in his throat. Encouraged, he bit down slightly just below the delicious bend that marked the separation of thigh and rear. Harry moaned delightfully.

A close to wicked grin spreading over his face, he leaned closer and pressed his tongue to the top of the crack that separated Harry's buttocks. Potter positively _whimpered. _He kissed up Harry's spine, tracing his chest with his hands as he did so, slowly rising to his feet again.

Fully on his feet, he couldn't resist. Leaning forward and pressing his forehead against the nape of Harry's neck, he carefully skidded down his flat and hard stomach until his fingertips brushed over the underside of Harry's cock.

Draco released a heavy breath over Harry's skin as he felt the man's breath hitch in his throat. Harry's shaft was velvety soft and so hot it was close to burning. A shallow layer of softness, but under it; completely stiff. He caressed the top of the head swiftly with his thumb, feeling wetness smearing over it.

He had barely realized it until he lifted his head, but Harry had abandoned the tree, and now leaned heavily back on Draco instead, pressing his body as close as possible. Harry's hands were on the edges of his arse. He suspected that the innocent Potter wasn't even aware of it.

Draco lifted his head just a bit more and took the lobe of Harry's ear between his lips and sucked lightly before he pulled back again and released a low moan. To Draco's immense delight, he felt Harry's cock twitch beneath his soft fingertips.

Somehow, Draco got out his wand and swept away all branches from the area behind them, leaving only soft, damp grass. He wrapped his arms around Potter yet again, and somehow managed to get him on his back on the grass.

Harry stared at him with wide eyes from where he lay sprawled for Draco to admire. And admire he did. Harry showed no signs of shyness at his exposed state. And bloody hell, he didn't have any reason to; if a half naked Harry Potter was amazing, this was bloody _epic._

Harry looked like the very image of masculinity where he lay in the moonlight, his short black hair tousled, his lips reddened from their previous kissing. The dewed grass was clinging to his body like not even it could resist the temptation it proved to be. It was basically bare from all body hair, except for the black curls that adorned his groin. Draco's mouth almost watered.

Harry's voice was hoarse when he spoke, looking up at him with clouded eyes. "Bloody hell, Malfoy, why are you still clothed? And why in Merlin's name is that mask still on your face?"

After living through the surge of blood Harry's voice sent through his veins, Draco touched his face in surprise and realized that, yes; he was still wearing the mask.

He grinned at Harry. "Want me to strip for you, Potter?" he joked, winking.

But to his surprise Harry's eyes darkened visibly.

"Godric, yes."

For a moment Draco was at loss. This what not at all what he had expected when he had tried to seduce Harry Potter. But then again, this was so much better.

He kicked off his shoes and dragged of his socks, loving the feeling of the grass between his bare toes. The mantle over his shoulder came off easily, and he threw it at Potter. Who of course caught it easily. And brought it to his face and drew in a long breath.

"You smell like heaven, Draco…" Harry mumbled into the satin. Draco was a bit puzzled; he hadn't really done anything but showering, but he decided not to comment. Instead he pulled his robe over his head and dropped it on the grass at his feet.

Harry's head snapped up instantly at the rustle of the cloth. Draco actually took a step forward at the look on Harry's face. Sure, he was used to people staring at him, but this… the look in Harry's eyes was so intense it bordered on angry. A moan slipped past his lips as he loosened the first button on his pants.

"Let me do that," Harry demanded hoarsely, and was on his knees in front of Draco before he could reply.

"Salazar…" Draco breathed and let his head tip back and his eyelids fall shut, moving his hands from his pants to Harry's exquisite shoulders.

Like he had done himself just minutes ago, Harry pulled Draco's pants off swiftly, taking his briefs down with them.

Draco drew a sharp breath as the cold air hit him, but it turned into a strangled cry as he was enfolded in warmth not a second later. It really didn't take much to figure out what had happened, but it was so unbelievable that Draco had to look down to see it for himself anyway.

Harry Potter was on his knees in the damp grass, with his cock in his mouth. Draco's hands moved instantly to Harry's head in order not to fall over.

"God…" he rasped, his head falling back again, "sweet mother of Merlin, _Harry_…"

As a response to his mindless rambling, Harry hummed around him, drawing an undignified whimper out of Draco. He buried his hands in Harry's hair. His hair, his stupidly marvelous hair that had started all this.

Harry suddenly drew a whimper out of him as he pulled back a little and lapped at the underside of his cock. Draco's grip changed to a pull in order to get Harry to quit what he was doing.

"Salazar, Potter, you need to stop that, or I'll come all over your face…" Draco growled, horrified with himself in the next second.

His head snapped down to witness the damage he had caused. Harry's green eyes were widened as they stared up at him, but the flash of lust that drew over his face was obvious.

Draco, who would currently be more than willing to give away every galleon he owned to regain at least enough self-composure to keep quiet, groaned.

Deciding that he desperately needed more control over this – after all, Potter was the one being seduced – dropped to his knees, keeping his hands in Harry's hair.

"Not this time," Draco said, hoping to be subtle in his suggestion for more than one night, "I have something else in mind."

He untangled his hand from Harry's raven locks and let his hand slide down to his rear, squeezing. Harry's eyelids fell shut as he moaned lightly. A surge of heat shot through Draco's body as he intensely studied Harry's face. He _needed _to watch the man come.

Equally unwilling to let go of Harry's ass and hair, he debated with himself for a moment before he released Harry's arse cheek in order to conjure some lube (thank Merlin his pants – and thereby wand – weren't far away). Meanwhile he put his other hand to even better use and pulled Harry into a kiss.

A slow one, this time, one that _Draco _was in control of. He nibbled on Harry's lips slowly, dragging his tongue over them lazily, slipping inside if only barely. He was rewarded with yet another moan, which transformed into a gasp as the cool lube slicked Harry's rear.

"May I?" he asked breathily in Harry's ear, realizing that was a question he had neglected.

"Godric yes." Harry breathed back and pushed his pelvis forward, causing their cocks to rub together blissfully.

Draco didn't wait. Quickly throwing his wand a bit to the side, his hand found its way back to Harry's delicious rear and squeezed again. But this time, he didn't stop there.

Harry moaned as he pushed a first finger inside.

Harry held him tight as he kissed his neck while driving his finger – and soon _fingers – _inside of him. Draco let his mouth wander downwards over his collarbones and into the hollow of his throat. He dwelled there only shortly before he moved lower and took Harry's left nipple into his mouth. The surprisingly vocal Gryffindor moaned loudly. He took this opportunity to easily shove a third finger inside of Harry.

Harry's right hand was on his face instantly and pulled him up so harshly that Draco's fingers slid out of him. This drew a gasp from the lips that were kissing him in the next second.

"_Now, _I want you inside of me _now, _please… Draco, _now…" _Harry moaned against his eager mouth.

If Harry's previous begging had been inadequate, _this _sure made up for it. And _more. _Draco almost thought he would come on the spot. But no; first Harry. He needed to see Harry first.

"On your back, then." Malfoy said smoothly, and mentally patted himself on the back for not sounding as desperate as he felt. Harry captured his lips again and dragged him with him to the ground, wrapping his legs around Draco's waist.

"_Now!" _Harry demanded, and Draco didn't need to be told again.

He pushed inside quickly, hoping that's what would cause the least pain in the end. He changed their kiss to the softer nibbling Harry's lips gently, hoping to distract him from the pain.

Apparently it was working.

"Move," Harry breathed against his lips.

Draco was more than eager to oblige.

"Merlin you're tight…" he whispered gently, and was rewarded with a chuckle and a squeeze of his own arse. Surprised at his own sensitivity, he drove deep into Harry with a gasp.

The sound that came out of Harry… Draco almost thought he would faint. A sort of whimper, bordering on a mewl, and he was almost completely positive that he heard his own name somewhere in there.

Desperate to hear something similar he picked up the pace driving deeper into Harry with each thrust. And Harry's hips soon moved with him, his hands on Draco's shoulders, gripping hard.

"Yes," Harry moaned, "God, sweet Merlin, yes…"

Somehow Draco managed to keep his balance despite moving his hand from the ground in order to be able to wrap it around Harry's by now throbbing cock.

And suddenly Harry's hands moved from his shoulders to his face, angling it so their gazes met perfectly. Harry's eyes were as green as the grass beneath them, twinkling and surprisingly awake considering their situation; Draco himself felt like every cloud that had ever passed England had taken up residence in his head. But there was something in them that made Draco's heart positively ache; joy, utter and unshielded.

"_Draco…" _he gasped, his eyes slid close and his back arched, and he _came. _And so did Draco; harder than he had ever before. He pumped in and out of Harry a few last times, until they both were completely spent, and then he collapsed atop of the other man.

Unable to contain a small laugh he pressed his lips gently to Harry's cheek and drew in the smell of his hair and their sex through his nose.

Harry chuckled as well and hugged him tight, but then let go with a light: "Now get off me, I need to breathe."

Draco complied and pulled out gently, but it still drew a gasp from Harry.

He collapsed on his back and rested his head against Harry's outstretched arm.

"That just might be the best thing… ever…" Harry said breathlessly. Draco glanced sideways at him, finding him staring up at the leaves and the starry night visible behind them. Harry had a beautiful face.

"Yeah…" he agreed, turning his head up, too.

"Oh, the danger isn't over yet," he joked. But when Harry chuckled delightfully, he realized the truth in his own words. He was not prepared to accept this as a one-off.

"Harry..." he said softly.

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I'll let you go",

Harry looked up at him with a surprised look on his face, and for a moment he thought that the other man would protest. But then he smiled instead.

"Good. You wouldn't have had much luck in getting rid of me."

-End-

* * *

Yes, the lot of you who didn't faint and died when you realized there was a new chapter, there _is _a new chapter. The reason to why it took so long is that I suck at sex. I meant that I suck at writing it! ARGHH! You get my point!

Anywho, _please, _I beg of you, write a review and tell me what I did wrong, what was good and what definitely should be improved. I have more of these to write, so I desperately need the feedback.

And I'm currently writing on another HarryDraco – with a lot more consistent updating; already 30 chapters up – that you can check out if you like; _Once upon a Sleepless Night _is what it's called. That one also has the advantage of being beta-ed. I haven't even read through this one. Sorry for silly mistakes.

Random fact: I fainted today at the doctor while taking a blood sample. I hate fainting. And I harassed a poor classmate living close because I felt terrible on my own and couldn't stop crying. He laughed at me. It helped.


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